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Caine, Hall, Sir, 1853-1931

"The Woman Thou Gavest Me Being the Story of Mary O'Neill"

. . but never mind about that neither. I guess I've hustled round
considerable since then, and this morning I've married my daughter into
the first family in the island."
There was another burst of cheering at this, but it was almost drowned
by the loud rattling of the rain which was now falling on the lantern
light.
"Monsignor," cried my father, pitching his voice still higher, "what's
that you were saying in Rome about the mills of God?"
Fumbling his jewelled cross and smiling blandly the Bishop gave my
father the familiar quotation.
"Truth enough, too. The mills of God grind slowly but they're grinding
exceeding small. Nineteen years ago I thought I was as sure of what I
wanted as when I got out of bed this morning. If my gel here had been
born a boy, my son would have sat where his lordship is now sitting. But
all's well that ends well! If I haven't got a son I've got a son-in-law,
and when I get a grandson he'll be the richest man that ever stepped
into Castle Raa, and the uncrowned king of Ellan.


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